


it’s just the sun in your eyes

by chrysalizzm



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (because he ran dream over hhhh), Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Dream Smp, Gen, Identity Reveal, Injury, Not Canon Compliant, The Railway Skirmish, Tommyinnit (mentioned) - Freeform, dreams a minor deity and the others been knew, the author has fallen in love with mcyt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27374542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalizzm/pseuds/chrysalizzm
Summary: Respawn is a gift the old gods granted the people at the dawn of time. The ability to reform after death, to hold your own life in your own hands - Dream wonders, but ultimately leaves it alone. The features that the old gods bestow upon the people isn’t any of his concern. Besides, it usually makes Dream’s life less complicated.Usually.Or: Dream’s a minor deity. The others aren’t exactly surprised.NOTE: This story is no longer canonical in theyoung godcontinuity!
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Floris | Fundy, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 704





	it’s just the sun in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve only known dream smp for five days but if anything happened to any of them i’d kill everyone on this godforsaken planet and then myself
> 
> title is from halsey’s “young god”; cute little joke of mine. i thought something lighthearted and short and sweet would be fun, and i’ve fallen absolutely ass over teakettle for the dream team and dream smp, so. ah. here we are at a god au, a personal favorite. if you follow me on tumblr, i’m so sorry for the spam of mcyt you’ll be subjected to. 
> 
> for real, i’ve been around mcyt for a while - i was in deep during the “first wave”, with team crafted and the like. i’m so, so glad to have fallen in love with minecraft again, and equally as glad to have such great people leading the wave, making positive spaces for mental health and lgbtq+ kids and just as good people. words can’t encompass how grateful i am to them. i’m in love, lads

Respawn is a gift the old gods granted the people at the dawn of time. The ability to reform after death, to hold your own life in your own hands - Dream wonders, but ultimately leaves it alone. The features that the old gods bestow upon the people isn’t any of his concern. Besides, it usually makes Dream’s life less complicated. 

Usually. 

“Tommy _ran you over_ ,” spits George, hauling Dream by the arm through the valley that leads into their side of the borders. Fundy is supporting Dream’s other side, peering anxiously into Dream’s face. Eret, leading up the rear, has an arrow notched in their bow and brings it up every time they hear a branch crack.

“So he did,” says Dream, trying for glib and managing to land somewhere in the region of mangled word salad. It might have something to do with the fact that both Fundy and George are soaked in his blood. 

George doesn’t deign to answer that. 

They finally trip their way into Dream’s designated lands, and as soon as they make it onto one of the neat wooden boardwalks crisscrossing the country, George and Fundy set him down gingerly, Eret settles at his feet, and they all proceed to panic. 

Eret grabs Fundy’s tail while aiming for his arm, ignores Fundy’s yelp, barks, “I’ve got potions in my house, a few regen - get them all!” 

“God apples at mine,” George tacks on distractedly, and Dream can somewhat make out the glint of his eyes, wide and worried, behind his sunglasses. “It’ll be faster to pearl there.”

Dream would laugh if it didn’t hurt. He’d groan, too. He wishes he could tell them all of the rare items and magical concoctions are wasted on him; he may be a minor god but god-blooded all the same, and even if it hurts he won’t die from it, not like they would. That said, it’d be bad form to tell them to just cut his throat and let him respawn; respawn is a messy business when gods are involved, and anyway, it’s a miserable experience for everyone. 

Oh, shit, it looks like they’re all actually about to scatter, Eret gathering their arrows and Fundy rising up onto his haunches. Dream can gripe and whine and throw enchanted diamond axes at them all he wants; he does love them all, he _does_ , why else would he shape an uncut gemstone of a world for them to wander and flourish, with his meager powers? He poured his essence into forming an earth and spent weeks bedridden for it, but thought even then that he’d do it again to see the wonder on each one of his favorite people’s faces. So when George leans over him, waving Fundy and Eret away, Dream grabs George’s sleeve and sputters as coherently as he can, “W-wait.”

George’s brows furrow, but as always, he trusts Dream implicitly; halts the two others and beckons them closer when Dream gestures toward them weakly. He searches Dream’s face and must read the unspoken plea in it. “What?”

Humans are fickle. It’s something Dream knows down to his marrow. For all that he’s a young god, it’s a lesson every deity learns eventually; Dream, walking the earth the way many gods don’t, caught on faster than most. That said, he likes to indulge himself with the belief that the people he loves love him back, enough to forgive him for the secrets he keeps. That belief, and maybe the blood loss as well, contribute to the sting behind his eyes when he confesses, “I’m a - a minor deity. Don’t - don’t waste - your items on me. I’ll get over it... I’ll get over it.” His voice is so soft that George makes him repeat himself twice before everyone catches on. 

For a taut moment, it’s just the wind and the silence and the ragged sound of Dream’s breath wheezing in his chest. He braces for pain. 

“...Okay, and?” says Fundy. 

Dream goggles at him. 

Eret rolls their eyes. “You’re an idiot god,” they say fondly, then nudges at Fundy with their toe. “Potions,” they remind him when he turns huge wounded eyes on them. “Apples. Get.”

Dream manages a dumbstruck “I just said - !” before he begins to choke, and George hastily turns him to his side and passes his hand over Dream’s back a few times, gentle to a fault. 

“Yes, we heard you, you dolt,” George tells him when Dream clears his airways of blood, and holy shit, that’s a lot of red, no wonder they were so concerned. George pats his arm to get his attention again, and continues, “But just because you can doesn’t mean you should suffer, you know.”

Dream can only stare at him, gaping. “Are... are you serious?” he asks, reaching up weakly to wipe his mouth and only really succeeding at smearing blood everywhere. He must look like a clown. 

George smirks at him even as he props him up carefully and waves his arm at Fundy, who’s sprinting toward them, like a man flagging a taxi. “You look like a clown,” he says smugly, reading Dream’s mind, then, softer, “Of course we’re serious. Why do you act like you don’t know we love you for whatever you are?”

After, when Eret says pointedly that Dream was looking a little teary-eyed when they returned with an armful of healing potions and Fundy was coaxing a golden apple bite by bite into him, Dream will bluster and kick them with his wrecked netherite boots. For now, he swallows past the lump in his throat, the feeling of something squeezing his heart, and splutters, “Right. Yeah. Okay.”

Deep down, he preens at the warmth the words generate.


End file.
